


Never Just a Word

by rivlee



Series: No Dominion [5]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-14
Updated: 2012-11-14
Packaged: 2017-11-18 16:06:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/562867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivlee/pseuds/rivlee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are words and phrases from Elill's past he only uses for certain people. Takes place during the first full chapter of <i>Wild in a Rush of Wind</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Just a Word

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [this](http://www.premiumwanadoo.com/cuneiform.languages/dictionary/index_en.php) site and its Akkadian Dictionary.

Sleep was a stranger to Elill this past week. He was afraid to let his eyes drop, terrified that if he gave in he would wake to find the occupant of his bed finally among the dead. He turned to study the young man caught in the throes of fever.

 _Duro_. That was what Oenomaus called him. It was an unfamiliar sound in Elill’s mouth. He liked the way it felt on his tongue. There was little else he knew about him. A German, he was told, so he surmised the foreign words that tumbled off of Duro’s lips as he trembled in sleep were from his mother-tongue. A newly trained gladiator with only one match to his name, a victory largely fought by his brother.

Elill barely remembered that fight, though he was present per Iodocus’ wheedling. A unique set of games, the Bringer of Rain unable to fight and the Champion of Capua returned to the sands. Half the priesthood was out that day, to see one of the two who helped cut down the Shadow of Death and bring back the rains. Few paid attention to the first rounds of fighting but Elill could remember that one. Two against two, he recalled one standing victorious, sans helmet, saving the other from certain death with a lucky throw of a spear. It was only by the gods’ hands the spear didn’t go into Duro as well that day. 

Elill rested a hand on top of the matted braids at Duro’s head. He’d tried to clean them of all the sweat, dirt, blood, and grime there but it was a lost cause. They would have to be cut off. 

“How is it you keep managing to escape Death’s grasp? You must be a beloved of your gods,” he said. 

He moved his hand to Duro’s forehead. It was cooler than before, hopefully a sign this bout of fever had waned. He couldn’t help himself as he trailed a finger over those thick, dark eyebrows. He couldn’t explain this, the need to care for and touch this stranger. Elill had tried to keep it just a healer’s touch. There was no sense in lying to himself about his own intentions. He felt a pull to Duro and he wished he could figure out why.

It wasn’t often someone from Elill’s past showed up at the temple doors in the middle of the night. He always hoped it would be Adad. He never guessed Oenomaus. He hadn’t seen him since after Melitta’s death when he appeared to ask for a prayer of remembrance. Elill felt his world shatter when he learned the news. He didn’t see Melitta often, once every two months at most, and yet she was like an older sister to him. She always snuck him some scraps of papers so he could practice his letters. She was such a gift and with her gone. Well, it felt like the whole of Capua changed. To have Oenomaus back, to have Duro _here_ , it must’ve meant something. 

“You are attracted to him,” Solon whispered.

Elill guiltily snatched his hand back from Duro’s face and looked up at Solon. There wasn’t censure in that gaze nor was there understanding; just sadness. Duro made a sound and tilted his head as if searching for Elill’s touch in his dreams.

“He is an attractive man,” Elill said as he gave into temptation and rested a hand over Duro’s heart. The beat was steady and strong. A very good sign. “Surely you agree.”

Solon sat beside him and studied Duro’s face. 

“I do not like the beard. You’ve always gone for those types though,” Solon said. “Never one for the shaven like me.”

Solon’s words weren’t bitter. It was the truth, one they both knew after unsuccessful attempts for more than friendship. They had those memories of their youth but it would never be a passionate affair or a romantic love. 

Solon lifted Duro’s bandage and made a face at the wound. “Iodocus said you enticed the surgeon for his services.”

“I’ve done worse and more for wealthy merchants who have paid us a pittance,” Elill said. “It was a simple dance, nothing vulgar.”

Solon smiled. “It’s always a little vulgar with you. You inspire lust in their eyes just by walking.”

“I do not control their reactions,” he argued. 

“True. Do not deny you have gone out of your way to do so in the past. You put too much intensity into your stares.”

Elill shrugged. “Only when I feel like it. Sometimes it feels good to be desired for _who_ I am rather than _what_ I am forced to be.”

Duro’s body suddenly started thrashing and Elill leaned over him, to try and hold him down.

“Shh, _ḫibu_ , it is alright. You are safe.” He started to softly hum, a tactic which often calmed Duro.

Elill jumped when Solon rested a hand on his back.

“You called him _ḫibu_. You haven’t called any other that since Adad,” he said.

Elill couldn’t meet his gaze that time. “It is nothing, just an endearment. A mother would say it to her child.”

“Or a man to his beloved,” Solon teased. 

“It’s just a word,” Elill insisted. 

 

***********************

Duro was twitching in his sleep after a long day of marching. He kept rolling from side to side and was keeping Elill awake with his half-asleep huffs of annoyance. Agron wasn’t faring much better and Nasir looked as concerned and annoyed as Elill felt. Iodocus was the only one lost in a deep sleep. The gift of youth taunting them all.

Duro gave a particular violent kick to his blankets and Elill ran a soothing hand down his back.

“Shh, _ḫibu_ , it is alright. We are safe.”

Duro snuffled in response and burrowed his head deeper into the pile of blankets he was using as a pillow. Elill slowly let out a breath as Duro stayed still for a whole minute. 

“It always surprises me when you speak Aramaic,” Nasir quietly said. “It flows from your tongue.”

“I thank you for that compliment though that was Akkadian. It’s one of the elder tongues of our homeland. I only know a few phrases learned from my youth.”

Even in the lowlight, Elill could see the hint of Nasir’s smile. “More than me. I know neither.”

“I can teach you. Shall we start with _ḫibu_?”

Nasir nodded. “I’ve heard you use it before. What does it mean?”

Elill smiled as he continued to trail his fingers down the strong muscles of Duro’s back. 

“Beloved,” he said. 

“ _Ḫibu_ ,” Nasir said, correctly rolling the first syllable from his throat. He laughed. “I like how it sounds.”

“A slight difference from your Latin tongue,” Elill agreed. 

Nasir shook his head as his leaned down to press a kiss into Agron’s hair. The soft _ḫibu_ carried in the silence of the tent.


End file.
